


On A Blackjack High

by Chaos_Crazy



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, Novelization, Record of Gameplay, The Courier be gay yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 23:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Crazy/pseuds/Chaos_Crazy
Summary: A novelization of my play-through of fallout: new Vegas.





	On A Blackjack High

The first thing she sees is blurred soil, and pain if that was something a person could see. Her hands were numb, her head felt dizzy and throbbing at the same time, and her knees were uncomfortably sore. She shook her hands, feeling the tight robe keeping her bound as she tried to get the feeling back.

 

“You got what you were after, so pay up.” came a gruff voice, off to her left, snapping her attention to the side. She tried to stay calm, keeping her breathing low, while clenching her fists to get circulation back.

 

Straight ahead of her, another voice. “You’re cryin’ in the rain pally.” Smooth talking, like one of the Chairmen from the New Vegas. Looking up a bit, she saw a pair of dress shoes, slightly worn.

 

“Guess who’s wakin’ up over here?” A voice, more nasally, on the right. She raised her head to look at the men who had kidnapped her. One man in a checkered suit, hair slicked and combed, was smoking a cigarette directly in front of her. Two other men were on each side, one holding a shovel (with a bit of her blood dried on it.), the other with a handlebar mustache and a bandana wrapped around his head. She looked straight to his hip for a gun, but only found a knife strapped to his boot.

 

The man in the checkered suit dropped the cigarette to the floor, stomping out the light. “It’s time to cash out.” he said, taking a slow and purposeful few steps up to her. The handlebar looked aggravated by him, tensing his shoulders too much. She tightened her shoulders, putting a foot under her, ready to spring forward at the right moment.

 

“Will you get it over with?” he asked, but got any further protest cut off by the man in the suit. He raised one finger to him, like a teacher lecturing a problem student.

 

“Maybe Khans kill people without lookin’ ‘em in the eye. But I ain’t a fink, ya dig?” He turned his full attention to her, like a hunter showing respect to his prey. He reached for the inside pocket of the seamless checkered jacket, pins and needles ran over her skin at what could be her death. She took a sharp breath through her nose and tensed at the sight of her last delivery, pulled from his pocket. A poker chip, about the size of the palm of her hand, made all of platinum and branded with the Lucky 38 symbol.

 

“You’ve made your last delivery, kid,” He said, cocking his head as he spoke. He placed the chip back in his pocket, rustling around for something else. “Sorry you got twisted up in this scene.” He pulled a gun out from his pocket--one you can’t forget--decorated in ivory, with a catholic saint painted on the handle. She tightened her hands into fists, thinking if she dove at the right moment he'd miss, and maybe she could get away.

 

“From where you’re kneeling this must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck.” he gave her a regretful look, shaking his head just a bit in sympathy. “The truth is,” He leveled the barrel right at her head, her eyes staring straight down the barrel, illuminated by the full moon behind him. “The game was rigged from the start.” He pulled the trigger as she tried to sit up, a flash, and then nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> press f to pay respects


End file.
